Showing posts with label Mercian King of Mercia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mercian King of Mercia. Show all posts

07 March 2022

Acorn Bags: Nuggets Of Beauty And Function

Some would argue that a true artist, or even artisan, wants the focus to be on his or her work rather than him or her self.  They may have a point:  After all, while some (yes, I include myself) might be interested in the details of  Rodin's, Picasso's, Shakespeare's, Louis Armstrong's or Georgia O'Keefe's personal lives, what matters is the images, sounds and words they left us.

So I could understand Ron's wish not disclose his wife's name, or even his last name.  For the past fifteen years, they've done work that has, rightly, attracted attention in the cycling word--and outside of it. 

One day this past fall,  when I was crossing underneath the Hudson on the PATH train with Dee-Lilah, my custom 2018 Mercian Vincitore Special, two young couples asked me about the bike, with its lovely (if I do say so myself) paint finish, intricate lug work and a couple of nicely-made bags--or, if you prefer, pieces of bicycle luggage.





A male member of one couple, and a female of the other, seemed to be regular cyclists and wanted to know about the bike itself.  But the male member of the other couple--who told me he rides, but is "not a bike fanatic"--was interested in the bags because, he said, he's thinking of leaving his regular job and becoming a full-time maker of custom bags of all kinds.  He could see the workmanship on the bike's bag, he said, and was curious as to who makes such items.




A couple of weeks ago, when I pulled into a service station/convenience store on Point Lookout with Zebbie, my 1984 Mercian King of Mercia, someone asked about both the bike--which, while its lugwork isn't as intricate as Dee-Lilah's, has a unique paint job--and the bags I'd attached to it. 

In both instances, folks were curious about bags, or bicycle luggage, made by Acorn Bags in California.  I've been using them (along with Ruthworks Bags, which I've mentioned in previous posts) for about three years.  They haven't quite developed the "patina" canvas bags like it acquire because, since I have several bikes (and a bunch of bags), there isn't one, or even a set, that I use every day.  But I feel I've ridden the Acorn bags enough to comment on them.

First of all, I want to say that while they might seem expensive in comparison to mass-produced bags of synthetic materials,  Acorn's prices are actually quite reasonable, especially when you consider the materials used and the hand work that goes into making them.  

More important, the materials and workmanship on them are impeccable. The canvas is as strong as it is aesthetically pleasing, and the stitching is consistent and formidable.  Currently, Acorn's bags are made in three colors:  black, gray and brown.  Every couple of months, Acorn makes a run of bags in one of those colors.  They post a list of colors and anticipated availability dates on their website, so if you have your heart set on a particular color or model, sign up for their mailing list.

While I like all of their colors, my particular preference is for brown.  It looks both earthy and classy, like a leather bag or pair of boots made in a similar color.  Also, it's similar to a color in which Specialites TA-LaFuma bags were made for several years.  





I've been using their medium randonneur bag, front "bread box" bag and two of their saddle bags.  With the exception of their "bread box" bag, all are inspired by classic French and English designs.  It's hard not to notice the similarities between the Medium Rando bag on the front rack of Zebbie and its Specialites TA counterpart, the Medium saddlebag on that bike and the Berthoud "banana" bag, or the saddlebag on Dee-Lilah and some Carradice or Brooks designs.




But Ron and his wife don't seem content to copy traditional designs as much as possible.  They seem to have thought of how those beautiful, durable bags can be made more convenient.  For example, the Medium Rando bag can be used, with light loads, without a decaleur as long as you mount it on a rack like the Nitto M12 or M18 or Velo Orange racks with the "tombstone."  (The "bread box" bag is also designed to be ridden with such racks.) With somewhat heavier loads, you might want the decaleur, but I've managed to stabilize the bag with a small bungee cord attached hooked onto the D ring on either side and passed underneath the rack.  And, while I haven't tried it yet, I imagine that it might be possible to use the large saddlebag--with an exterior size and inner capacity like that of the Carradice Barley--without a support because of the ways in which the bag is reinforced in key spots.





The "breadbox" bag is somewhat smaller in capacity than--and, perhaps, not as "classic" looking as--the Rando bag. But one thing I really like about it is the way it fits on the rack:  Its profile almost perfectly matches the platforms on the Nitto M18 rack on Dee-Lilah or the Velo Orange Constructeur front rack on Zebbie.  And, its flap provides easy access to all of the bag's contents, though I advise tightening the elastic closure.

In all, I can confirm all of the good things you've read and heard about Acorn bags.  They are worthy of the finest handmade frame and will add a touch of class and personality to a mass-market bike. But, most important, Ron and his wife have managed to make functional improvements to beautiful classic bags--and to imbue them with the pride of true artisans and artists.

14 February 2022

Beach Walkers, Sheep Dogs, Marc Anthony And The Prince

Mornings fill with one commitment or another.  So, for me, it's a good thing the days are getting longer: On an afternoon ride, I can look forward to more hours of daylight. I don't avoid riding in the dark altogether, but I really prefer to ride in daylight, especially in heavily-trafficked or unfamiliar areas.

On Friday, I started another 120 km Point Lookout ride after midday--at 1:45 pm, to be exact.  That meant my last hour or so of riding was in darkness.  But I was treated to some light and vivid or stark, depending on your point of view, colors by the sea.



The public beach and playground area of Point Lookout are closed to repair erosion and prevent more of the same.  But I ventured on to a nearby side-street where, surprisingly, the gate was open to an area normally restricted to residents.  A couple of people--one a man walking an English Sheepdog, another an elderly woman--passed me on their way out.  Both greeted me warmly and didn't seem to care (or know) that I don't live in the area.  

I think people who are out walking the beach on a chilly, windy day have respect for anyone else who's doing the same.



On Saturday, I got on, La-Viande, my King of Mercia, with no particular destination in mind.  I found myself wandering along the North Shore from the Malcolm X Promenade (Flushing Bay Marina) to Fort Totten, where I took a turn down to Cunningham Park and Nassau County, where I pedaled down to Hewlett (part of the Five Towns and up through the town of Hempstead, which contains more contrasts in wealth and poverty, and residential grandeur and squalor, than any place in the area besides New York City itself.

As I saw the blue sky tinge with orange, I started toward home--or so I thought.  Instead, I found myself wandering through suburban developments that gave way to the SUNY-Old Westbury campus and long lanes lined with mansions and horse farms.  I saw a sign announcing that I'd entered Brookville--which, it turns out, is home to Marc Anthony and Prince Felix of Luxembourg.

I didn't take any photos on my Saturday ride because my battery had less power than I thought and I wanted to save it for an emergency that, thankfully, didn't happen.  But I had forgotten, until that ride, how such a rural setting could be found only 50 kilometers from my apartment!

And I ended my day with that ride--and the day before with a ride to an "exclusive" beach.  


24 January 2022

My First View, From A Bike

Yesterday I rode Zebbie, my 1984 Mercian King of Mercia, through the brownstones and rowhouses of Queens and Brooklyn.  Such a ride could easily involve a trip across the Kosciuszko Bridge, now that it has one of the better bike-pedestrian lanes in this city.

And so it was yesterday.  Tourists on Citibikes almost always ride across the Brooklyn Bridge for the views.  But no longtime New York resident does that.  Rather, in-the-know Big Apple cyclists opt for the Williamsburg Bridge or, if we simply want a visually interesting ride, the Kosciuszko.

In the spring and summer, the view consists mainly of skyscrapers foregrounded by trees and the factories and warehouses along Newtown Creek.  But the denuded limbs of winter reveal a landscape of differing verticalities. (Does that sound like a geeky phrase or what?)

When I lived in Manhattan and Brooklyn, one of my worst fears was--moving to Queens.  Mind you, I took many good rides, and enjoyed other activities, in "the world's borough."  But my first glimpse of it came from my family's car, en route to visit relatives:





Tell me, how would you feel about a place if the first thing you saw in it was a cemetery?  I'm guessing that I probably saw it for the first time on a winter day like yesterday, with leafless trees screening, but not shielding, the tombstones.  





But I did eventually move to Queens--to Long Island City, not far from where I live now.  Since then, I've visited Calvary Cemetery.  I know that there are tours of some of this city's necropoli, like Greenwood and Woodlawn.  Anyone who has a taste for such things (which I do, sometimes) should also go to Calvary.  Largely before of it, there are--wait for it--more dead than living people in Queens. (Thomas Wolfe once claimed, "Only the dead know Brooklyn."  What would he have said about Queens?)  In fact, more people are buried in Calvary than in any other American cemetery--or than live in Chicago!

Like Greenwood and Woodlawn, Calvary is the final resting place for some famous and infamous people, as well as everyday New Yorkers.  Also in common with them, Calvary began after the 1840s cholera epidemic: At that time, most of Queens and the farther reaches of Brooklyn and the Bronx (the locations of Greenwood and Woodlawn, respectively) were rural. And there wasn't enough room left in Manhattan to bury the victims of that epidemic, so the city mandated that they be interred elsewhere. 

All of those cemeteries have chapels large enough for masses or services.  But Calvary has a full-blown cathedral (not visible in these photos) at least somewhat reminiscent of the Sacre Coeur in Paris.






It's ironic that those same trees I saw yesterday obscure the tombstones in spring and summer.  Could their lush leafage during those seasons be nourished by the "residents" of Calvary?


07 August 2021

La-Vande Is Here

 Last week, I did four rides on four different bikes--all of them mine.

If you've been following this blog, you've seen three of them:  Dee-Lilah, my Mercian Vincitore Special; Tosca, my Mercian fixed gear and Negrosa, my vintage Mercian Olympic.  But I didn't mention what I rode to Point Lookout that Friday.




La-Vande, a Mercian King of Mercia, rose from the wreck of Arielle, the Mercian Audax I crashed last June.  One of the few good things that came from that mishap--save for the support you, dear readers, showed--was a settlement to cover another bike.








I intended La-Vande to be the "winter" and "rainy day" version of Dee-Lilah, my Mercian Vincitore Special.  So, I specified the same geometry but a slightly heavier tubing--Reynolds 725.  And I'd asked for a different color scheme because I'm not trying to build a "Stepford" fleet.  

Well, the frame was built with the same Reynolds 853 tubing as Dee-Lilah.  And it was painted in the same colors, though La-Vande's lilac paint is slightly lighter.  Grant at Mercian said it was probably a result of a "different batch" of paint.  He apologized, but I wasn't upset, really.  What La-Vande is, essentially, Dee-Lilah with less fancy (though still lovely) lug work--and some slightly less expensive components, most of which came from my parts bin.  

Anyway, I pleased with the bike.  It's a "younger sister" to Dee-Lilah.  I figure that since she has a geometry and build I like, it doesn't hurt to have another bike like her.  

Here is a list of La-Vande's specs.





Frame:  Mercian King of Mercia, Reynolds 853 tubing.

Headset:  Tange sealed bearing.

Wheels:  Phil Wood hubs.

              Mavic Open Pro 36 hole rims.

              DT Competition spokes.

Tires:     Continental Gator Skin folding 700 X28 


Brakes:   Shimano BR-R451 

              Tektro RL 340 levers 

              Mathauser Kool-Stop salmon pads

Crankset:  Stronglight Impact, 170 mm, 48-34 chainrings

Bottom Bracket:  Shimano UN-72, 68x107mm

Derailleurs: Shimano Ultegra 6500 rear 

                  Shimano Dura Ace 7400

                  Dura Ace downtube levers

Cassette:    Shimano 105 9 speed, 12-25 

Chain:         SRAM PC-971 

Pedals:        MKS Urban Platform with "basket" toe clips and Velo Orange toe straps

Handlebars:   Nitto 177 "Noodle" 42 cm, wrapped  with Newbaum's Eggplant-colored cloth  tape

Stem:             Nitto NP 110 mm

Seatpost:        Nitto 65

Saddle:           Brooks Professional

Accessories:    Nitto M18 front rack, Zefal HPX pump, King "Iris" water bottle cages





In another post, I'll tell you about the bags on this bike--which I've also been using on some of my other bikes.


11 January 2021

Am I Normal Yet?

Public figures and everyday people talk about the world or their lives "returning to normal" once Mango* Mussolini is out of the White House or "when the pandemic is over."  Of course, the new "normal" is never the same as the old "normal;" it never can be.  When our routines or the machinations of society are disrupted, things change and we, hopefully, learn.

Even with this knowledge, however, I am going to give in to the temptation to say that something in my life might be returning to normal.  Yesterday and the day before, I did something I hadn't done since I was "doored" in October:  On Saturday, I pedaled up to Connecticut; on Sunday, I rode to Point Lookout.




The Saturday trek was my standard route to the Greenwich Common via Glenville Road, about 140 kilometers (85 miles) round-trip.  As I hadn't done the ride in about three months, I actually wondered whether I'd get up the last climb on the ridge, just after I crossed the state line.  But partway up, I realized that I was fighting not only "rust," but also a headwind.  




The last time I saw the Common, leaves were turning red and gold and orange.  On Saturday, bare trees bore witness to the cold and wind through which I'd pedaled.

On my way home, I felt ready to challenge Jeanne Longo, Rebecca Twigg and Missy Giove in their prime.  Pedaling downhill with the wind at your back can make you feel that way!




Yesterday's ride took me to the South Shore of Queens and Nassau County, through the Rockaways and Atlantic Beach to Point Lookout.  Under a clear, bright sky, the water barely rippled.  And, in contrast to Saturday's ride, this one is flat, and I encountered barely a breeze on the 120 km (72 mile) round trip.

In late summer or early fall, when I'd normally have pedaled a lot of miles, the Point Lookout jaunt would be a "recovery" ride if I did it the day after a Connecticut ride.  But it seems odd to call it a "recovery" ride when the past three months have been a time of recovery for me!




One thing I couldn't help but to notice was how little traffic, motorized or otherwise, I encountered on both rides.  I guess the cold kept people in their homes in spite of the bright sunshine.

In case you were wondering:  I rode Dee-Lilah, my Mercian Vincitore Special, to Connecticut and Zebbie, my 1984 Mercian King of Mercia, to Point Lookout.  Being able to do those rides again was enough to make me feel good, but being on bikes that look and ride the way they do made me feel even better.

Things may not be "normal" yet.  But at least one part of my life is getting there, I hope!


*--I feel guilty about equating  a mango, a fruit that brings nothing but pleasure to those who eat it, to someone who's slammed democracy and people's lives with a baseball bat.

25 December 2019

Merry Christmas Bike

I hope you are enjoying a holiday.

Since today is Christmas, I thought I'd share some images of the most Christmas-like object I own:





Yes, I've been doing some work on the Mercian King of Mercia I bought a few weeks ago.  For one thing, the sew-up wheels are gone:  I actually sold them on Craigslist.  In their place are a set of wheels with classic Campagnolo Record hubs with modern Mavic rims and DT spokes:



One reason I decided to use those hubs is that the rear one allowed me to employ an old trick:



The rear dropouts are spaced for 126 mm, as were most road bikes of the KoM's era (1984).  I rearranged the spacing on it so that both sides are even.  The good news is that I have a wheel with no dish.  The bad (depending on your point of view) news is that the right side spacing will allow me to use only 5-speed or Ultra (narrow)-6 freewheels---which is what I'd planned to use anyway.



And it allowed me to use the lightweight Open Pro rim.  It's actually a very strong rim for its weight, as Mavic rims tend to be.  Also, for a rim as narrow as it is, it can accommodate fairly wide tires--like the 700X32 C Paselas that adorn them now.

Probably the next most-significant change I made was in the derailleurs.  Getting a Rally derailleur was nice, but I actually like this one better:



I saw more than a few otherwise-all-Campy bikes equipped with Cyclone derailleurs from the mid-'70's to the mid-80's, so I don't feel as if I'm committing some sort of sacrilege.  With that change, I also swapped out the Campy shifters for ratcheted SunTour levers.



One more Campy part went from this bike to my parts box:  the pedals.  They don't seem to have been ridden much at all, so I wrapped them carefully and am saving them for "future reference."  The MKS platform pedals--my current favorites--bear enough resemblance to classic platform pedals like the Lyotard Berthet (#23) or the ones SR made that they don't look out of place on this bike. 

The fellow who bought the sew-up wheels also took the deep-drop Cinelli bars that came with the bike. (What such deep drops--or sew-ups--were doing on a touring bike, I'll never know.)  And I sold the stem--which had too long of an extension--on eBay.  In their place, I installed another favorite--Nitto Noodle bars with an NP (formerly Pearl) stem.  The Noodles bear enough resemblance to randonneur -style bars that I can justify (to myself, anyway) them on a bike like this.

If you saw my original post about this bike, you probably noticed three other changes:



The brake cable housings were cracked.  I like to replace cables on secondhand bikes anyway.  As luck would have it, I found these gold braided housings on eBay.

And I had to remove the leather sleeves that were stitched on to the handlebars in order to remove the brake levers.  Perhaps I will re-stitch them onto the new bars some day, but for now, I wrapped them with Tressostar brown and green cloth tape.  I also replaced the original Campagnolo gum rubber hoods, which were dried and cracks, with new items from Rustines.



Finally, I replaced the Avocet saddle with--what else?--a Brooks Professional.



This will give you a taste of things to come:



This bell bracket came from Velo Orange and will sport one of those lovely brass Japanese ringers.  And, of course, I will add bottle cages, a pump and a front rack for a bag.



Funny, isn't it, that a bike--which can be ridden all year round--can look as much like a Christmas ornament as anything that's hung on a Fraser fir.

04 July 2018

The Fourth

In France, they have le quatorzeHere in the US of A, we have The Fourth.

It's what we call our Independence Day.  Today, though, when I hear "the Fourth", I can't help but to think of the Amendment--which, like so much else in the Constitution, is in peril.

But The Fourth is also my birthday.  And this year it just happens to be a round-number year for me.  I'll let you guess which one! 










For the occasion, I gave myself a gift--which actually came to me all the way back in March.  I am referring, of course, to Dee-Lilah, my new Mercian Vincitore Special.


You could say, though, that I got an unexpected gift when the bike I mentioned yesterday--a 1973 Mercian King of Mercia--showed up on eBay.  In my size.  And the seller dropped the price.






And I'm going to meet friends.  I am lucky indeed.  Now, to do something about my country!

03 July 2018

I Could Blame Them....For This!

Blame Phillip Cowan.  And Coline.  And Leo.

I swear, they nudged me into it.  Yes, even though Phillip is in another part of my country--and Coline and Leo are in faraway foreign lands--they completely short-circuited my self-discipline.  Really, they did.  You know, they used powers that, in most circumstances, I deny believing in (sort of like a lot of conspiracy theories).  In the end, I simply couldn't stick to a promise I made myself.

And I've waited a couple of weeks to tell you about it, dear readers, because, well, I don't want to show how weak and vulnerable and suggestible I am.  I know, I don't have to pretend to be a Gary Cooper-type macho-guy anymore. (As if I ever did!)  Even when I end up loving what I'm pushed or cajoled into doing, it pains me to admit it!

So what am I talking about?  First, I'll mention the promise I made:  After Dee-Lilah, my new Mercian Vincitore Special came into my life, I swore I wasn't going to buy another bike.  Of course, we all know that such a pledge from a bike enthusiast is about as credible as anything a politician says when running for office.

And into what trepidation and turpitude did this ruptured oath lead me?  Well, instead of describing it, I'll show you the evidence of it:

Yes, I bought the Mercian-painted-like-a-Motobecane I sort of mocked in a post last month.  Really, if Phillip, Coline and Leo hadn't egged me on in their comments, I never, ever would have done such a thing.

Riiiiight, you say.  You believe that like you believe a single bullet killed JFK--or anything in the 9/11 Commission Report.

All right, I'll admit it:  I wanted that bike.  These days, I shy away from bikes in any combination of black and red because it's so common on new bikes--and done with none of the style of those old Motobecanes. Or this Mercian.




I finally bought the bike two weeks after that post, after the price dropped a couple of times. So what did I get?




Well, it's a King of Mercia built with Reynolds 531 throughout (of course) in 1973.  Somewhere along the way, it was repainted (originally, it was all red), which is why the Reynolds 531 decals aren't from that period.




But almost everything else on the bike is:  Check out the 1973 Campagnolo Nuovo Record gruppo.  I love the crank and large flange hubs--with the old-style flat-lever skewers.  And the shifters--with Campy lever covers!





Then there's--what else?--a Brooks Professional saddle.  And the Cinelli bars and stem.  The only non-period parts are the rims, spokes, tires, freewheel and chain.  




I am guessing that the bike originally had sew-up tires and rims, and someone rebuilt those wheels with Mavic Open Pro rims and DT spokes.  Of course, Mavic OP is my go-to rim for high-end wheels, and in silver it looks like a classic rim.  Hey, the wheels even have 36 spokes.  The bike was shipped with cheapo tires, one of which was worn.  I replaced them with Continental Grand Prix 4 Season tires--another favorite.




I also would imagine that the drivetrain originally included a Regina freewheel and chain, which were standard on Campagnolo-equipped machines. (Some Italian bikes came with Caimi/Everest.)  The freewheel I received, however, was a SunTour ProCompe and a chain whose provenance I couldn't determine.  That wasn't a problem:  I replaced them with a SunTour New Winner freewheel (5 speed, 13-26) and a Sedisport chain.  I replaced the two small cogs on the ProCompe and will most likely use it on my Trek.


I've ridden the bike only twice, and am astounded at how similar it is to Dee-Lilah:  very quick, smooth and stable.  The only other change I plan on making is a stem (Cinelli, of course) with a slightly longer extension--and to replace the Cycle Pro toe clips (pockmarked with rust) with a pair of Christophes.  

The bike was shipped to Bicycle Habitat, and Hal assembled it.  Of course, he took it for a ride.  When he called to tell me the bike was ready, he exclaimed, "You're really gonna like it!"  He's right.

I'm so lucky:  Dee-Lilah, and now this bike!  But they are going to have different roles:  Dee-Lilah is a modern/classic or classic/modern bike, depending on how you look at it (Reynolds 853 tubing with fancy lugs, traditionally constructed, kitted with modern components--and a Brooks Pro.)  On the other hand, if I do L'eroica--or any other event for vintage bikes--you know what I'll ride.

(P.S.  I have a handlebar bottle cage which I believe to be a Specialites TA.  If it isn't, it sure looks like one.  I might put it on this bike--if I can find some clamps for it.)

26 May 2013

A New Neighbor

I pedaled into wind that felt more like a boomerang of January than the first wave of summer.  Only a block from my apartment, I felt as if a season, an age, had passed. In the corner of my eye, I glimpsed this:


Even at this distance, something told me this wasn't a typical bike parked on a street in my neighborhood.  I made a U-turn so I could take a look.  


What else could have set off my radar?  I hastily snapped this photo, the one above it and another


when the bikes owner showed up.  I internally braced myself; he smiled warmly and said "hello."


Noah is from Montreal but now lives a couple of neighborhoods away from me.  He bought his 1981 King of Mercia from a woman on the Upper West said who, he said, was offered more money than he paid for the bike.  The would-be buyer was a collector; the woman, who'd stopped riding, still appreciated the bike enough that she preferred to sell it to someone who would ride it.  

Shortly after buying it, he converted it to a single speed but kept the old components. He set up the original crankset with a single ring but, of course, installed a new pair of wheels and pedals.  However, he rides the bike with the really nice Sun Tour Superbe brakes that came with it.  And he replaced the original saddle with one that really belongs on that bike:  a Brooks B-17.

In the course of our conversation, I might have talked him out of repainting his bike, even to "restore" it to its original look.  Actually, I was talking myself out of doing the same to Vera. Truth is, I can't justify spending the money, given my current finances.  But Noah said he was "glad to hear" that I'd considered refinishing  but thought better of it.  "It's really a beautiful bike."

So is his.  Refinishing it would only make it look new, or newer.  That, I think, is the real beauty of bikes like his.